


Can you hear me?

by Miliontears



Category: TharnType the Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Gulf is a little clueless, Light Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:09:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24522895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miliontears/pseuds/Miliontears
Summary: - MewGulf Soulmates AU -Gulf hears a voice in his head but never talks back to it. He doesn't know it's his soulmate trying to establish a link between them.Gulf doesn't believe in such concept. If he had, he would have known that rejection could kill. Literally.
Relationships: Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong
Comments: 44
Kudos: 294





	1. Chapter 1

Gulf hears voices. Well, one voice in particular.

It hasn’t always been the case though. He has spent most of his life without that disturbance and has no idea what triggered it. It’s been months since the voice has been talking to him, trying to create a link that he refuses to establish.

Acknowledging the voice in his head is out of question for Gulf. Replying to it would mean it exist and he doesn’t want to lose his sanity. Ignoring the voice is simpler. It implies that it isn’t real, that he isn’t becoming crazy.

Gulf hates himself for wasting so much time on the matter and wishes he wouldn’t feel anxious as he waits every day to hear the voice. Maybe if there was a pattern, he wouldn’t be this tensed, but there isn’t. The voice doesn’t speak at 8am every morning or at 10pm every night. It’s random and can pop up in his head at any moment of the day or the night.

Gulf often finds himself wondering if his lack of sleep is due to the voice or if the voice has appeared because of the lack of sleep. It reminds him of a vicious circle. There’s no beginning, no ending.

Gulf ruffles his hair, frustrated, as he tries to follow what his lecturer is saying. One of the thing he hates the most about his ‘condition’ is that it prevents him to focus. It distracts him and he no longer counts the times the teachers had called him to order because he wasn’t listening. Gulf does want to concentrate, but sometimes he just can’t. He finds it tiring and unfair. He has done nothing wrong to deserve this, at least not in this life.

Was he being punished for something he had done in a previous life? It couldn’t be. Gulf didn’t believe in reincarnation. He trusted facts that could be proved and explained.

So he tries. Gulf really tries his best to act as if nothing is going on inside his head but there are days where he fails miserably. He does his best not to lose his temper but the more the months pass while he has to cohabite with that voice, the more it becomes difficult to ignore it.

At first, the voice would only greet him with an “Hello” or a “Good morning” once in a while, but little by little, curiosity started to show through the voice and the greetings turned into full sentences and questions. When the voice used to speak only once a week, it now addresses itself to Gulf every single day.

Gulf is lost. He has no idea how to deal with it anymore. He considers himself lucky that he hasn’t found refuge in alcohol. It could have been easy to drawn his craziness in some heavy booze, but he had never gave in. As much as he doesn’t want to become a deranged man, Gulf doesn’t want to become an alcoholic either. Moreover, there is no guarantee that the voice would mute itself if he was drunk. So Gulf stays away from strong liquors and endures the annoyance on his own.

The only thing Gulf does is hope. He hopes for the voice to go away but even when _it_ remains silent for most of the day, _it_ always say a word, often at 23:59.

“You look exhausted.” Mild tells him once class is over and they walk side by sides towards the dining hall. Gulf has glossed over the subject with his best friend already but has always refrained himself from sharing too many details. It’s the same logic. The less he talks about it, the better. Today however, Gulf is so tired to fight against his own self that he opens up a little more to Mild. He got nothing to lose emptying some of his baggage after all and if he is lucky, he might even feel relieved after their conversation.

“Remember the voice I talked to you about? The one that tries to talk to me?” Mild frowns, obviously trying to recall their past talk, then nods in remembrance.

“Yeah. Why? You still hear it?” Gulf wishes he doesn’t but he does. He gives his best friend a nod.

“Every day…” Confessing isn’t easy, the words struggle to get past his lips.

“Have you talked to someone about it?”

“I’m talking to you about it.”

Mild chuckles and elbows Gulf. “Silly. I’m thinking about a shrink or something.” Gulf shakes his head. If it’s already difficult to broach the subject with his best friend, he can’t imagine himself approaching his issues with a stranger. “What does it say?”

“It speaks about random things and asks lots of questions. It’s mostly information to understand who I am, I guess.”

“You haven’t talked back to it right?” Mild asks and Gulf hums. “Maybe you should. You know, just to tell that voice to shut up?”

“I don’t know… I don’t feel comfortable doing it…”

“You won’t become a mad man just because you talk to that voice once you know?” Mild tries to be reassuring but Gulf’s hesitations are persistent. “I can do it for you if you want, I don’t mind. I’m already a little nuts, so...”

The two friends laugh then Mild wraps an arm around Gulf’s shoulder to lean closer to his ear, readying himself to tell a word or two to that voice. His behavior doesn’t surprise Gulf anymore. Mild cares very little about looking silly in public and doesn’t mind other people’s opinion. Gulf wishes he could be a little more like him sometimes.

“Hey there!” Mild speaks into Gulf’s ear, his breath tickling his skin. “Can you leave my friend alone please?”

Gulf stays silent as Mild observes him, waiting for something, whatever it is. The voice doesn’t speak back and while it isn’t particularly surprising, deception blooms inside Gulf. How great would have it been if it had worked?

“Thinking about it, I’ve read about something similar.” The comment strikes Gulf’s curiosity and he gives his friend an expecting look, encouraging him to keep going. “In stories. You know, those soulmates in alternative universe?”

Gulf rolls his eyes and pushes Mild away. What was he thinking? That his friend would come up with something clever? It’s Mild after all, of course he had nothing but a joke to offer him. Gulf liked him nonetheless.

*

Later that day at night, Gulf lays exhausted on his bed. His limbs aches and he wants nothing more than take a good rest. Exams are right around the corner and the teachers expect a lot from them. Gulf doesn’t do well under pressure in general and with that voice on top of that, his stress level is pretty high. If only he could spend a whole night sleeping without being woken up by _it_ , he could at least regain a little bit of strength.

Gulf grabs his phone and wonders if he should google about soulmates like Mild had mentioned earlier. He starts to type in the search box then abruptly stops himself to stare at his screen. He isn’t going to ask an artificial intelligence if soulmates exist. There’s no way. He isn’t that desperate. Well, he is. Kind of. Gulf grunts, defeated.

Soulmate is nothing but an invented concept made for romantic people who believe in enchanting fantasies. There is no such thing as mental or physical connections from afar. That two people might feel like they are meant to each other Gulf can understand, but those alternative realities? Very little for him.

_Good night._

The soft tone used by the voice makes Gulf snap. _Goodnight my ass!_ _I haven’t slept since you’ve started talking to me!_ He thinks, frustrated. _When will you stop bothering me?_

It only takes Gulf a few second to realize that he has talked back to the voice for the first time ever. It wasn’t planned, the complaint had left his mouth naturally. Gulf isn’t losing his mind, he is simply tired of fighting against something invisible. 

_Sorry…_

The apology comes a moment after but unlike the other times it spoke, the voice is barely a whisper. Pain echoes in Gulf’s ears and his chest tightens suddenly. The hurt that comes out of nowhere is disconcerting. He massages the skin above his heart and tries to take a deep breath to sooth the foreign feeling. It helps a little but his mind is fully awake.

That night, an uncomfortable sensation weighs over Gulf and sleep can’t seem to reach him.

The day after, Gulf anxiously waits for the voice to talk again. He can’t understand why he is expecting it to manifest itself when all he wanted for those past months was for it to disappear, but he does.

Surprisingly, no unwanted words come to disrupt him as the voice stays silent during the whole day. At 23:59, Gulf eyes are glued to his phone, awaiting. The minute passes and he is greeted by nothing but silence.

At 00:00, Gulf realizes it is the first time in a while that the voice hasn’t spoken to him.

Days go by without Gulf hearing the sound of that voice again. While he should be relieved to finally be back on his own, he isn’t entirely. He appreciates to be the sole master of his thoughts again, but he isn’t feeling like himself anymore.

Gulf can’t explain the tears that roll down his face every time he thinks back about that pained whisper. It tortures him and the hurt gradually becomes worse.

Gulf wishes he could hear that voice again because at least when it talked to him, he didn’t feel like he was dying from the inside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gulf struggles with his feelings.

There’s an everlasting pain living in the pitch of Gulf’s stomach since the voice has stopped talking to him.

Gulf doesn’t know how to explain his condition. Heavy sadness that doesn’t seem to belong to him lies inside of him. He has no reason to be so devasted, but he is anyway. He feels like he is grieving the loss of a loved one and has no idea how to cope with it. He has never lost someone he is very close to and the storm of mixed feelings, each of them more disheartening than the other, is unsettling.   
Gulf thinks he might be depressed. He barely eats or sleeps, he has lost interest in his favorite games and he misses something dearly. The absence of this thing, whatever it is, never leaves him.

There are times his eyes sting so much that no matter how hard he rubs them to sooth his discomfort, tears flow nonetheless. Sometimes it’s just a few. Other times, Gulf cries his eyes out until his mind is too drained that it makes him dive into restless sleeping nights.

Gulf tries to live with the headaches and the swollen eyes. He tells people it’s because of the upcoming exams, and while he might fool them, he can’t lie to himself. Gulf senses that there is something wrong with him. He simply wishes he knew what.

It’s been days since Gulf has little but no will to get out of his bed. A part of him – the usual him – wants to get up and be active, but there’s this new side of him, the one he doesn’t recognize, that doesn’t want to do anything other than burry himself under the blanket and drawn himself into a pool of sadness. Gulf is lonely. He doesn’t feel like himself anymore.

That morning, he has to drag himself to his classroom to take an exam. It’s important he tells himself. He has studied as much as his condition allowed him to, and yet, when he looks at the paper, he has no clue what it is about. The questions don’t make sense. The words are mixed up and the letters swirl on the piece of paper. Gulf tries to follow their moves. They go up and down, they wind around themselves to form a nasty storm. It makes him dizzy.

His head starts to ache again. His vision becomes blurry.

Gulf wants to be in charge. He fights against his body with all he has. He won’t give up. He won’t give in the distressing pressure.

Sweat pearls on his forehead and runs down his temples. It drips in his eyes and burn them. It hurts. Everything inside him hurts so much. Gulf wants to cry but he doesn’t. He wipes his face and grits his teeth.

Gulf tightens his grip on the pen he is holding onto. He takes a deep breath, slow and shaky. He inhales and exhales. His fingers tremble and he has no control over them anymore. The pen drops on the floor before he can catch it.

The moment Gulf leans over to pick it, his limbs grow numb. His body is abandoning him. There’s nothing he can do, nothing he can grab hold of.

Gulf crashes on the floor in a room full of students but he is too weak to care. His lids weigh more than they ever did so he allows himself to close his eyes. It’s dark and cold there.

Gulf is freezing.

*

Gulf doesn’t sleep nor is awake. He is in a daze where pitch darkness scares him to the core. He can’t see a thing, but he _hears_. He hears a short breath that isn’t his. It’s weak and unsteady, much worse than his own. Pain tightens his chest and the cold that blows within himself turns his heart into an icy glacier. It’s fragile, breakable under the surface and could easily be shattered into pieces.

When Gulf regains consciousness, he’s met by the blinding ceiling of the infirmary. The contrast with the black space he had been caged into is striking and makes his head pound. He closes his eyes right away.

The foreign breathing has disappeared but the coldness in his body persists. Gulf wants to talk but he is too weak. Even thinking demands him too much efforts. So he lays on the bed for a while, maybe for hours, he doesn’t know. He’s physically there but his mind is elsewhere, faraway where everything hurts and nothing much makes sense.

“How do you feel?” Mild’s voice reaches his ears. It’s soft, caring. Gulf doesn’t answer. Even if he could, he wouldn’t know what to say. “Gulf?”

Gulf curls up on the side, his knees tucked in. He might have a fever.

He hears Mild talk to someone, the nurse maybe. He can’t make what they are saying, it’s nothing but brouhaha. Gulf wants the noise to stop. He wants the pain to go away. He wants to be himself again.

*

“You’re sure you’re alright?” Days have passed since Gulf’s incident and Mild is still worried about him.

“I’m fine.” Gulf blatantly lies. They are inside his room after Mild insisted on bringing him back to his dorm once class was over. His best friend gives him a long look.

“You know you can tell me anything right? I can see you’re lying.” Mild comments slightly upset. “It’s obvious you’re not doing fine.”

“I’m just sad.” Gulf finally confesses, avoiding his best friend’s eyes. “I should be happy that the voice isn’t talking to me anymore but since it stopped, I’m feeling sad.” He sighs, his heart heavy. “I cry sometimes.”

“What do you cry about?” Mild doesn’t judge him for a second, he simply cares and senses his distress.

“I don’t know.” Gulf shrugs and sits on the edge of his bed. “The tears come out of nowhere.”

Mild claims the free spot next to Gulf and wraps an arm around his shoulder. The touch is supposed to be comforting but it doesn’t bring Gulf any relief. He is immune to the other reassuring gesture.

“Do you feel guilty about telling him off?” Mild inquiries as Gulf shakes his head. “Did you try to talk to it again?”

“No.” Why would he?

“Maybe you should.” Mild softly advices and pats his best friend’s back. “I know you’ve always avoided it because you’re scared, but I think you should embrace it…”

“What do you mean?” Gulf looks up at Mild, inquiring.

“Let’s say this soulmates thing really exists… Maybe you only need to talk to that voice to be alright.” Mild shares his point, as little as it makes sense to Gulf. “It’s crazy, but when I look at you, I can barely recognize you.”

“Soulmates don’t exist Mild.” Gulf frowns and sits straight to face his friend. “It’s not real but I am. I’m real and I’m sane.”

“You told that voice to leave you alone and it did. That counts as a proof to me.” Mild is serious and squeezes Gulf’s thigh. “You got nothing to lose. I just want you to be alright.”

Gulf wants the same. He wants to be fine. He wants to smile and laugh. He wants to sleep, eat and play. He wants to live the way he used to, without being anxious or sad. Gulf simply wants to be happy again.

Later that day, when Mild is gone and that he is alone in his dorm, Gulf gives his friend’s advice some thoughts. It’s true that he has nothing to lose addressing himself to that voice one more time. He has reached a such a high level of distress that he is willing to try anything that could bring him some sort of relief. Even if it’s just for an hour. Gulf really wishes there is a way to lessen his burden and help him cope with the pain.

“Do you hear me?” Gulf asks as he stand in the middle of his room. He feels totally silly talking aloud to no one in particular, but he tries not to overthink it. No one can see him here. There’s only him and his misery sharing the space.

“Hello?”

“Hey?”

“Can you hear me?”

Gulf keeps asking but all his questions are left unanswered. The lack of reply widens the pit in his stomach and emptiness swallows him a little more. Gulf suddenly feels desperate for the voice to talk again, to reach out to him. There’s an unexpected need to be connected to that voice and the silence that greets him leaves him forsaken and neglected. The ache is unbearable.

Gulf falls on his knees and buries his face in his hands, silencing the pained moans that leave his lips. Tears break through his fingers and run down his wrists and forearms. It drips on the floor in a constant thrum that reminds him of a ticking clock.

Gulf understands he is running out of time, but what for?

*

Gulf wakes up in the middle of the night with the impression that he is dying. Panic quickly arises and he covers his chest with his frozen hand to hear his heartbeat. The rhythm under his skin is there, not too fast nor too slow. It’s pretty steady actually but he isn’t reassured for all that.

He feels it inside him. There’s another beating heart aside his own. It’s so slow and weak that he almost misses it, but when he concentrates, he hears the faint drumming. Gulf knows it’s the sound of a dying heart. He shouldn’t know as he has never died himself, but he is certain of it. Whoever owns that frail heart is dying.

When the beat becomes even weaker, Gulf hits his own chest in a desperate attempt to urge on the other. He wishes he could help but he is powerless. Tears pool at the corners of his eyes and his blood runs cold. He is on the verge of losing it.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. _What’s wrong?_ He thinks.

Then he hears it. The voice.

_I’m dying._

Gulf recognizes the voice instantly. Like the heartbeat, it’s incredibly weak, almost inaudible. Pain laces the words that confirm Gulf’s guess. Someone is dying.

“What can I do?” Gulfs says but the voice remains silent. That’s when he registers the pattern. Every time he asked the voice something out loud, it never replied. Only when he asked through his thoughts did the voice answer. It’s eerie, but at this point, Gulf doesn’t care. He has to do something, anything to stop the suffering.

_What can I do?_

_Nothing… You’ve rejected me… It’s meant to happen…_

_What? Why? You can’t die only because I refused to talk to you. It’s unreal._

_Don’t you feel it…?_

Gulf does. He feels so many different emotions.

_Are you even real?_ The question had burned Gulf’s tongue for so long and now that it’s finally out, he is dreading the answer.

_Think with your heart… Not with your brain…_

Easier said than done. Everything is jostling inside Gulf’s head and he doesn’t know what to believe anymore. His brain tells him he has gone crazy, but his heart is longing for the voice’s heart.

Gulf decides to put every sane thoughts aside and concentrates on what is happening inside of him. He thinks about the voice and keeps it as the only thing in his mind. Gulf needs to find the voice.

Rushing out of his dorm, Gulf has no idea where he is heading but he is determined to go there. His feet lead him through busy streets and he trips more times than he can count. He crosses several roads without looking at the cars, forgetting for a moment about his own safety. He only has one priority and he doesn’t have the luxury to lose time.

_I can’t find you!_ Gulf is desperate when, after miles of running, he still hasn’t found the voice. He refuses to cry. Not now. It’s too soon. He can’t give up. Not yet. Not ever.

 _I feel you…_ The voice speaks again, but this time, Gulf can barely make what it is saying. Its condition is getting worse. Gulf is scared. _I heard you…_

Gulf turns back and retraces his steps. He needs to focus. If the voice has heard him, it means that he isn’t that far anymore.

He looks everywhere, from left to right, from high up to down low. He scans his surrounding despite the thick darkness and finally, Gulf spots something in a deserted park. There, on the grass just above water, lies a body.

Gulf rushes to kneel besides it and meets with a face hidden under a mop of black hair. Gulf knows it’s the voice. He knows it’s _him_. It’s real. _He_ is real.

Gently, Gulf pushes the hair back to reveal a pair of closed eyes. The face isn’t the one of a peacefully sleeping man, it’s the face of a man who’s experiencing harrowing pain. The paleness of his skin is so frightening that Gulf is scared to touch him. He doesn’t want to break him.

“Finally…” the man whispers as he slowly open his eyes. Gulf sees the struggle and while he should tell him to rest, once their eyes meet, he doesn’t want to look at anything but them. They are mesmerizing. “I can see you…”

In a weak attempt, the man lifts one hand towards Gulf’s face, his fingers ghosting over his skin. There are icy cold but the moment they touch his cheek, Gulf feels the spot burn. He covers the man’s hand with his own.

Then he looks at him, lost, clueless.

“You’re beautiful…” breathes the man.

Gulf is greeted by the purest smile he has ever seen. It’s tiny but the sincerity that spread those lips is breathtaking. It soothes his anxiety and for the first time in weeks, months even, Gulf doesn’t feel burdened anymore. He closes his eyes to enjoy the lack of stress and emotional pain for a minute.

Relief only last for so long though, because when Gulf wants to return the smile, something inside him breaks into pieces.

That’s when he realizes that there’s only one heart beating left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I smell angst? Noooo :D
> 
> Did you enjoy chapter 2? haha
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos! Please share your thoughts if you feel like it :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gulf forgets about the voice but soon hear noises that makes him curious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter everyone! Please enjoy <3

Gulf can’t stop crying. He is holding onto a man he barely knows, his face buried in the crook of his neck. He chokes on his own tears, drowning in the deep, the distressed feelings engulfing him whole. His head is pounding hard, as if someone is hitting him with a hammer continuously. The suffering is so intense, yet, it’s nothing compared the cold body lying in his arms and the absence of the man’s heartbeat. Gulf doesn’t want to say ‘ _corpse’_ , he refuses to acknowledge that the man is dead.

Sirens are heard but Gulf thinks he is imagining them until a pair of strong arms wraps themselves around him to pull him away from the man. The separation is insufferable. Gulf can’t breathe, his lungs don’t seem to be working anymore. There’s an intense need to be close to the man. He has to stick to him, touch him, be physically connected with him.

Gulf tries to launch himself back at the stranger but whoever is holding him is much stronger than he is and Gulf can’t break free not matter how hard he tries. When his knees touch the ground, Gulf doesn’t give up. He tries again and again to reach for the man, all but in vain.

Through his blurry vision, Gulf watches as people take the man away. _Mine_ , his heart screams in despair. They are soulmates, whatever it is supposed to mean, and he doesn’t care if it’s surreal because deep down, Gulf knows it’s the truth. His heart breaks into pieces when the man is brought inside an ambulance. He wants to follow but they don’t let him.

Gulf hears voices but none are the one he wants to listen to. He can’t make up what they are saying, their words are mixing with his cries. He can’t take it anymore. He whimpers, he suffocates. He is dying a little in the inside.

Then, something sharp sinks in his neck, taking him by surprise. It doesn’t numb the pain but it makes his surrounding disappear gradually until everything turns black.

Gulf is oblivious to what happens next.

*

Gulf isn’t sad anymore. He sleeps, he eats, he plays video games.

He no longer hears that voice. He doesn’t even remember it, nor the despair and the pain that went along with it. It’s all gone. Vanished.

When Mild talks to him about it, Gulf thinks his friends is a little crazy. He must have dreamt it all because none of this makes sense. Gulf would remember if he had heard a voice that had made him lose sleep. He couldn’t possibly forget something like that.

Gulf lives his life as if nothing is wrong, because nothing is. He is fine. He is himself again.

*

Then, one day, Gulf starts to hear noises in his head. He doesn’t ignore them, quite the contrary. He is curious as to why he is hearing things others aren’t. It’s a blur at first and it takes him a while to distinguish the clean beeping sound. It comes from a hospital’s monitor.

Days after, a voice adds itself to the machine’s sound. It’s _Doctor Pakorn_ ’s, Gulf learns. He is taking care of a patient named Mew but Gulf has never heard the other man talk yet. He is sleeping all the time. There must be something wrong with him but because of the distance, Gulf can’t tell for sure.

Sometimes, people who visit Mew calls him son or brother so it’s easy to tell they are his parents and sister. The man is rarely alone, there is always someone who showers him with nice words or attention. Mew has a strong support team and Gulf wishes he could be a part of it too. He has no idea why exactly he feels the need to be close to Mew when he has never met the man, there’s simply this craving that he can’t fight and that encourages him to deepen their connection.

Gulf wonders if he should be alarmed and question his sanity. Would that be the right thing to do? If it’s the case, then why is the sole idea of letting Mew go not sitting right with him? Gulf decides he rather keeps listening to what is going on inside his head than saying goodbye to a man who fulfils a void in his life he didn’t know he had.

Gulf keeps his condition secret, even from Mild. It’s not something he wants to share with anybody. Whatever is happening between him and Mew is for him – them - only to know. He has to treasure that connection, preserve it and keep it safe.

Months pass by and Gulf can now tune the noises in and off, like a radio station. It took him some time to master the skill, and while it’s not perfect yet, he is quite proud of himself.

On the weekend, he wakes up earlier than he usually would. He, who loved to stay until late in his bed, can’t remember the last time he has slept in actually. Doctor Pakorn always visits Mew at 9am sharp every Saturday and Sunday, and Gulf likes to listen too much to the latest update about the man’s condition to stay in bed. There is rarely anything new, Mew’s state never really improves but it doesn’t worsen either, which is great apparently. Gulf sincerely wishes for him to get better though. He cares for him, worries for him. It probably could be perceived as strange, but Gulf embraces the weirdness of the situation nonetheless. 

Over the time, Gulf learns many things about Mew, from the books he loved to read to the music he loved to listen. He learns that he has a dog named Chopper who misses him dearly and that his co-workers always ask about him. Gulf gets to know the man little by little and it draws him closer to the other. It brings him a fluttering happiness, soft and breezy.

Gulf also learns that Mew is soon turning 30 and he decides that it would be the perfect occasion to pay him a visit. He can’t explain why he is so keen on meeting a stranger – who really isn’t one anymore – but he sincerely wants to. Something inside him tells him he has to. There’s an unknown attraction that keeps pulling him towards the man and he can’t fight it. Gulf doesn’t want to anyway. The tighter their bond become, the more his desires to be drawn closer deepens.

When the D-Day comes, Gulf’s plan is pretty simple: quickly drop by to greet Mew and give him a present, nothing more. He doesn’t want to be intrusive and disrupt his family time. 

As Gulf steps inside the hospital where Doctor Pakorn works, he is nervous. He can’t recall the last time he has been this anxious, any occasion taken together. His hands are moist and he is holding strongly onto the present cradled in his arms. It’s nothing much, just a One Piece goodie he has wrapped on his own. The wrapping paper is a bit torn and the bow is messy, but Gulf has done his best.

He asks for directions to Mew’s room at the reception desk and follows the instructions. His apprehension rises the closer he gets nearer. What if Mew’s family is already there? What will they think of him? Would they call him weird? What should he say? That he and Mew are friends? Could he really call himself a friend?

“Can I help you?”

Gulf jumps in surprise when someone behind him speaks. He turns around and comes face to face with a tall man who is wearing a white coat. The tag on the chest pocket reads _Dr. Pakorn_.

Gulf smiles, content to see what the doctor he has been listening for months looks like.

“I’m looking for Mew..?” Gulf is hesitant, his confidence dropping a little more when confusion shows on Dr. Pakorn’s features.

“Are you a friend of his? I’ve never seen you around.” Gulf doesn’t know what to answer so he goes for a nod. Simple. Safe. Easy. A genuine smile brightens the doctor’s face and he friendlily pats Gulf’s shoulder. “Great! I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. He hasn’t seen a new face in a while.”

Gulf isn’t so sure but he follows Dr. Pakorn anyway. His heart misses a beat the moment he walks inside the room. He hadn’t expected to be nervous to the point of having palpitations. He swallows the uneasy feeling and takes another step. The nearer Gulf gets to Mew’s bed, the crazier his heart becomes. The way it races is insane, it drums so hard inside his chest that Gulf is scared it’s going to be ripped open.

When Gulf finally sees Mew’s face, the present in his arms drops on the ground. A striking pain pierces his body and constricts his lungs. His knees give in under his weight and the doctor catches him before he crashes on the floor.

“Are you alright?”

Gulf can’t talk, the words won’t come out of his mouth. He can’t breathe. He’s panicked, distressed. His eyes start to sting and before he can understand what is happening to him, tears stream down his face. A pained cry escapes his lips and he is thrown into a blizzard. He can’t see a thing. It’s cold. He’s freezing.

He vaguely hears Dr. Pakorn talk to him but he can’t understand a thing. The pain won’t go. It sticks to him and intensifies with every breath he tries to take. Gulf grips at his own shirt, fist tightening on the fabric.

The profound suffering hurts so much he loses consciousness.

*

Gulf is drowning in a pool of feels, his head about to explode. He remembers. He remembers everything, from the voice he had spent months trying to ignore to the man who had died in his arms. He recalls the pain and the sorrow, the anguish and the regrets.

The broken pieces slot together and Gulf finally realises that the voice and Mew are the same person.

As on pilot, Gulf gets up from the hospital bed he had been brought to, barely able to stand on his feet. His body will have to stay strong because there is no way he will give up now. Gulf rushes in the corridor, lost with a pounding head that doesn’t help to find the right direction. He takes a detour or two before he reaches the right wing of the right floor that leads to Mew’s room. And he runs. Gulf runs as fast as he can. He trips, once, twice and it brings him back to a year ago, where he was rushing in the dark streets looking out for the dying man.

He isn’t dead, Gulf tells himself. Mew isn’t dead. He is alive and he has stayed in the hospital during all those months.

When he arrives in front of Mew’s room, Gulf pushes the door open without hesitation. Balloons, flowers and presents are ornamenting the walls and the few pieces of furniture. It looks prettier than before and while Gulf doesn’t have time to waste on his surroundings, he still notices the scenery’s improvement.

Nobody is inside. Nobody but him and Mew.

The man is sleeping, his complexion pale, yet not as much as when they had met for the first time. Fear prevents Gulf from rushing by his side, hesitation brings chaos inside him. What if he comes near Mew and something bad happens again? Should he wait for a nurse or a doctor to be there in case the man would need help? He is even allowed to stand so close to him?

Questions are jostling in his head and start to make him feel dizzy. He can’t faint again, at least not before he has taken a good look at Mew.

Gathering what is left of his strength and courage, Gulf walks until he stands by the man’s side. His eyes are closed but he isn’t suffering. This time, Mew looks peaceful, serene, almost happy. Gulf on the other hand is sad as he remembers what happened between them.

Unable to explain why he is craving physical contact and despite his constricting and sorrowful heart, Gulf allows himself to touch the man’s face with extreme care, his fingertips barely brushing the skin. They slowly travel from his forehead where he pulls his hair back, to his nose and his lips. There, Gulf traces their shape as he bites his own.

The man is beautiful. And he is _his_.

Without second thoughts, Gulf leans over. He has no intention of abusing the other, it’s his body that is acting on his own. Gravitation attracts him, dragging him closer until his lips gently caress Mew’s. It’s soft and warm. _One kiss_ , Gulf tells himself, just one kiss and he will pull back.

His heart flutters and another joins in, beating in unison. It’s the same heartbeat Gulf had been willing to hear again so much, the one that had gone missing for months. It’s Mew’s heart that Gulf feels racing in his chest, right next to his own. They merge together, becoming one as they were meant to be, a perfect fit.

The drumming melody they create is appeasing and overwhelming at the same time. Gulf has to move backwards.

When he does, a pair of eyes is staring back at him. It isn’t a dream, Mew is really looking at him through tired but sparkling eyes. He seems confused which worries Gulf and makes him panic. What if Mew doesn’t recognize him? What if he doesn’t want him there? He’s responsible for his condition after all, he’s the reason why Mew had to spend so many months on this hospital bed. What if Mew resent him for that? What if the happiness taking birth inside the pit of Gulf’s stomach is not reciprocated?

Those thoughts are frightening but Gulf can’t get too far from Mew. His body begs him to remain close so they stay like that, motionless, staring at each other for a while. They are having a moment, _their_ moment.

“It’s you…” Mew’s voice is hoarse for not having spoken in a long time and Gulf manages to give him a glass of water with a straw, enabling him to drink while lying in his bed before he could speak again. “Is it really you?”

Distrusting his voice, Gulf can do nothing but nod, the words stuck in his throat. Mew closes his eyes and Gulf is worried he might not open them back again. He takes one of his hand in his to reassure himself, as if it could prevent the man from slipping away from him. When their fingers are interlaced together, Mew’s lips spread into a contented smile and soon enough, the harden eyes are on Gulf again, observant, affectionate, tender. Nobody has ever looked at Gulf the way Mew does. It makes him feel important, treasured, _loved_. Gulf is deeply moved by the show of affection, because that’s what it is. Affection and gentleness.

“I’ve waited for so long…” Gulf takes the statement as a reproach even if Mew hadn’t meant for it to sound like one. His eyes tingle and he recognizes the sign of upcoming tears. Gulf tries not to cry, he doesn’t want others to witness him breaking down, not even Mew. His guilt however can’t be contained any longer, and in the end, Gulf is unable to hold back his cries.

“I’m so sorry…” Gulf chokes, half fallen on the bed with his forehead resting on Mew’s shoulder as he repeats his apology. Gulf feels like a failure for having hurt a man who had deserved none of the suffering.

Mew’s arms soon wrap themselves around him and the fingers threading through his hair reassure him right away. The embrace is peaceful, soothing even, and leads Gulf’s breathing to slowly calm down. Being this close to Mew is so fortifying that Gulf quietly gets on the bed to experience stronger comfort. Mew gladly lets him do as he pleases, satisfied by their current proximity. It’s intimate without being too overwhelming.

Cover gently thrown over him, Gulf’s head settles on Mew’s chest. He doesn’t want to leave this spot where he can listen to the man’s heartbeat. The sound is nice, a sweet melody that makes his body vibrate. Gulf is anxious at the idea of listening it slow down and die. He tightens his arms around Mew, frightened to relive the same heartbreak again.

Minutes pass in comfortable silence until Gulf slowly lifts his head up to catch a glance at Mew. The man is staring at him with such intensity that Gulf flushes the moment their eyes meet. How could someone’s gaze convey so much emotions?

“How do you feel?” Mew nicely asks, almost in a whisper. It sends shivers through Gulf’s spine.

“Hot… Weird… Lost?” Mew smiles at his answer as the circles he is drawing with his fingers on Gulf’s back please the younger. “And you…? How do you feel?”

“Alive.” There’s no hesitation in Mew’s voice. “Happy. Complete.”

Gulf gets the meaning of Mew’s comment, he also feels whole with him by his side. It’s very hard to explain but maybe it doesn’t need to be put into words.

There are so many questions Gulf actually wants to ask. What happened exactly? Why was Mew the first to know how to communicate with him? How did he know they were soulmates? Why didn’t he speak up when he was dying? Why isn’t he dead when Gulf clearly saw him die in his arms? Why Gulf had forgotten about it all? Why did he hear what Mew heard in the hospital? Why is Mew waking up now after spending months in coma? Why –

“We have all the time to reply all those questions.” Mew softly says, surprising Gulf. How did he – “I can hear your thoughts, remember?” He smiles teasingly and Gulf feels a little silly. Of course he and Mew can listen to each other’s thoughts, how could he have forgotten about that?

“But…Why did I hear what people were talking to you about but not your thoughts?”

“I’m not sure.… I guess you heard for me when I couldn’t. I could sense that we were connected. I was receptive to the bond you were trying to strengthen between us...”

Gulf tightens his embrace, sadness and guilt looming over him once again. He wonders what would have happened if he had talked to Mew right from the start. Where would they be? What would have they experienced? Would they have been happy? One thing for sure though is that Mew wouldn’t have had to experience that amount of heartbreak and misery.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you…” Gulf’s voice his so tiny he isn’t certain Mew can hear him. “It was just so surreal…. I… I thought I was going crazy…” Gulf sniffed as memories are thrown back at him. “I’m sorry you had to suffer because of me…”

“You were hurting too… I shared your pain…” Mew tries to reassure Gulf through delicate touches and soft caresses. “I’m not mad at you…” He breathes as he kisses the top of Gulf’s head. “Don’t be too hard on yourself for what happened…”

“But… You almost died because of me…” How could Gulf not blame himself for the whole situation?

“And I’m alive thanks to you.” Mew adds with full confidence. He truly holds no grudges against Gulf. “You and I together, it’s all that matters to me.”

“You and I…” Gulf repeats, his lips brushing on Mew’s chest through the fabric. He wants to stay there forever. It feels right. Mew’s arms are where he is supposed to be.

“Can I ask you something?” Mew asks after a while and Gulf hums. The man can ask him anything, Gulf is willing to redeem himself. “What’s your name? You still haven’t told me.”

Gulf flushes, clearly embarrassed. It hadn’t crossed his mind that Mew didn’t know his name. How could he?

“Gulf.” He straightens and leans on his elbow, taking care not to crush Mew. “I’m Gulf.”

“Gulf…” Mew breathes the name, making it sound inviting. Gulf’s heart misses a beat and his hand tightens on the fabric of Mew’s clothing. “Can I kiss you?”

Mew asks, polite, but need echoes his demand. Gulf doesn’t reply with words. Instead, his lifts his head a little more to show his consent. Slowly, Mew’s hand travels up to Gulf’s nape and brings their lips gently together. They barely touch at first, as if neither Gulf nor Mew could believe in their closeness. Then, pressing their mouth just a little harder, the kissing becomes real. Gulf feels eager and feverish. He welcomes Mew’s passion with open arms and shares with him the sensual and intimate dance of their lips. He has never experienced something similar. He is left breathless by Mew’s kiss but at the same time, he has never felt so alive.

When they pull away from each other, Gulf is too nervous to look at Mew and snuggles inside the crook of his neck. Mew lets a warm chuckle escape his lips and embraces Gulf a little tighter, bringing their chest together.

There, their two heartbeats finally play the same song, a love ballad with syncing melodies. 

*

Gulf hears voices. Well, one voice in particular. It’s his Soulmate’s and he wouldn’t want it to mute for anything in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, no angsty ending for Mewgulf ! :D 
> 
> Thanks a lot for all the kudos and comments! I hope you enjoyed this short story :)  
> I thought about adding a chapter with Mew's POV but I'm not sure? haha
> 
> See you around <3


End file.
